


Backstreet's Back, Alright!

by hazelandglasz



Category: Backstreet Boys, Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, M/M, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-15
Updated: 2015-07-15
Packaged: 2018-04-09 12:55:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4349615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazelandglasz/pseuds/hazelandglasz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anonymous asked<br/>'I heard you singing backstreet boys at 3am and decided to sing along oops' AU YEEEEEEEEEEEES~ for klaine!!!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Backstreet's Back, Alright!

Kurt knows that he should have gone to bed a long time ago.

At least three hours ago.

And yet, here he is, still working on his project at 2.48am, and unless he’s going clinically mad, he is not the only one still awake.

Not only awake, but the someone else is actually singing–it must be someone on his floor, because otherwise, how would Kurt hear the lyrics so clearly?

Interesting.

“ _… Gonna bring the flavor, show you how_

 _Gotta question for you better answer now, yeah_ ”

A 1990s aficionado, and with a smooth voice.

Very interesting.

“ _Am I original_ ”

Definitely, Kurt thinks, tapping his pen to the beat.

“ _Am I the only one_ ”

Well, if the voice is like the feathers, 1990s Aficionado could be the one …

“ _Am I sexua-aal_ ”

Wow, hold your horses cowboy.

Though Kurt has to admit that the growly quality of 1990s’ voice on that verse was pretty sexual indeed.

“ _Am I everything you need_ ”

Kurt could use a cheesecake, too, but he doesn’t see the two as being incompatible.

Quite the contrary actually.

“ _You better rock your body now!_ ”

A stump comes from the right wall, and Kurt looks up, startled.

So that’s where 1990s is hiding.

“ _Everybody, yeah_

_Rock your body, yeaaah_

_Everybody, yeah_

_Rock your body right_ ”

Kurt totally blames the late hour and his memory of the song–and the videoclip and the choreography and how it cemented the certainty of his sexuality in his mind when he saw it on MTV–for his next course of action.

**“ _Backstreet’s back alright!_ ”**

Yep, he did this.

He sung with a neighbor he has never met. A Backstreet Boys song.

Silence reigns in the apartment, music faintly drifting through the wall.

And then, closer somehow–

“ _Now throw your hands up in the air …_ ”

—

It becomes a tradition before Blaine can really take the time to think about what he’s doing.

He was emptying his boxes–damn the movers for delivering his stuff at 9pm, and damn himself for not being able to wait for the morning to settle down calmly and peacefully–when the right song just happened on Pandora, and he had to sing with it.

Blame the iced coffees he drunk while unpacking.

But he didn’t expect his neighbor to join him.

Now, it’s been a week, and while Blaine hasn’t even met the guy, they seem to be really compatible–at least vocally.

And someone who can sing Céline Dion’s entire repertoire is definitely alright in Blaine’s book.

More than alright.

Pretty perfect, actually.

And now, Blaine is ready–he just needs to find the right song, but he thinks that maybe he could formally introduce himself afterwards.

It’s not too late, right around dinner time, so if he sings “the” song, and if Neighbor on the Left sings back, and if he goes to his door and knocks to invite him for dinner, and if NOTL is even half as pretty as he sounds, then Blaine will win a date with someone he knows shares quite a lot with.

That’s a lot of ifs though.

Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained.

Here goes nothing, he thinks, before pressing “Play.”

—

Kurt is looking forward for his nightly duet, but he didn’t expect 1990s to choose that song.

Even if the whole thing has felt like flirting, he didn’t see that one coming, and he swallows down a sudden rush of nerves.

“ _Although loneliness has always been a friend of mine_

_I’m leavin’ my life in your hands_

_People say I’m crazy and that I am blind_

_Risking it all in a glance_ ”

How fitting. Kurt takes over, feeling like he’s taking a major leap of faith.

“ **And how you got me blind is still a mystery**

**I can’t get you out of my head**

**Don’t care what is written in your history**

**As long as you’re here with me** ”

If anybody is spying on him, now is a good time to cash some massive blackmail material–because Kurt has his hands on the wall, as if he could reach for 1990s.

A part of his mind marvels at the easiness of their harmonies, but most of it just basks in the moment, in the pleasure of singing a love song with someone who, is definitely, taking over Kurt’s thought.

“ ** _I don’t care_**

**_Who you are_ **

**_Where you’re from_ **

**_What you did_ **

**_As long as you love me_ **

**_Who you are_ **

**_Where you’re from_ **

**_Don’t care what you did_ **

**_As long as you love me …_** ”

That’s it.

Kurt doesn’t know if his neighbor is good looking or if he’s some kind of Phantom of the … Pop music, if he’s some kind of fratboy or if he’s elegant and refined, but he knows that he needs to put a face on that voice.

His neighbor keeps on singing– “ _Every little thing that you have said and done, feels like it’s deep within me_ ”, damn, that is smooth–but Kurt is out of his apartment already, marching towards the apartment on his left.

And knocking on the door, which, sadly brings the song to a close.

And then the door opens.

“Hi.”

“It seems like we’re meant to be” echoes in the background, and Kurt’s smile widens.

“Hi,” 1990s replies with a mirroring smile. “Are you my duet partner?”

“That would be me,” Kurt says with a little bow of his head. “Kurt Hummel, night owl and Backstreet Boys connoisseur.”

His neighbor gives him a little reverence. “Blaine Anderson, new tenant and 1990s music lover.”

“All of the 1990s?” Kurt asks.

“Alanis Morissette, Backstreet Boys, Whitney Houston,” Blaine lists on his fingers and Kurt feels like sighing in quiet delight.

Or swooning.

Because boy gots the looks.

Or kissing him quiet before he can give Kurt a musical boner.

“You have a point,” Kurt replies, “if we exclude all the faux-pas from that decade.”

“I don’t know,” Blaine says, his smile turning coy. “It did bring a couple of good things.”

“Apart from the music, name two things that we should be thankful for from the 1990s?”

Kurt’s feeling that he’s flirting with Blaine is back, and it’s not like him, not at all, but it’s so  _easy_ , so comfortable.

“Easy,” Blaine says, crossing his arms over his chest–those sleeves should be illegal–, “Usual Suspects?”

“I give you that one.”

“And … you, I’m guessing?”

Kurt opens and closes his mouth a couple of times before letting out a very undignified snort of laughter. “That is very cheesy.”

“I know.”

“So cheesy, oh my God.”

Blaine looks down, embarrassed.

“But I can give you points for forwardness,” Kurt adds, still laughing but wanting to dissipate any misunderstanding that would keep him and Blaine apart.

Because it  _is_ a cheesy line, sure, but it clears things up for him.

“Would you now?” Blaine asks, looking up at Kurt with a return of his crooked smile.

“I would.”

“How generous.”

“That’s me,” Kurt says, fake-preening a little. “Knowledgeable and generous.”

“Allow me to pay your generosity back,” Blaine replies, “with a refreshment of your choosing.”

“I could show you the best spot around the building,” Kurt offers, if only because he thinks they need to get some fresh air–at least he knows  _he_ does–and because he doesn’t think he can handle being in close quarters with Blaine just now.

He might do something even more unlike him, like kiss him against the closed door before Blaine would even reach his refrigerator or SodaStream machine that he can spot from his vantage point.

“That would be nice,” Blaine replies, beaming smile blindening Kurt for a second. “Give me a moment to get my shoes and my wallet,” he adds, holding up his hand as if making sure that Kurt won’t disappear while he’s gone.

Kurt nods and stands in the doorway, looking at what he can in the apartment–you can tell that Blaine finished settling down, but it’s … very  _him_ , from what Kurt already knows.

He approves.

He definitely approves of Blaine bending over to tie his shoes though–best feature in the apartment.


End file.
